Bury Me a G 3.5

by Tranay Adams

  “I can tell you thinking about something. What’s on yo’ mind, baby?” Kesha inquired.

  “About this next money move I’ma make.” Te’Qui answered.

  “Oh, yeah? What’s next up for us?”

  “Us?” he looked to her with one eyebrow rose.

  “Yeah. Us. As in you and me.” she cracked a slight grin.

  “Nah, whatever I do from here on out, I’ll be doin’it solo. I’m not bringin’ you along for the ride again, puttin’ you and my seed at risk.” he rubbed on her stomach again. “Hell, I was a fool for lettin’ yo’ lil’ ass talk me into lettin’ you come along on this last lick. I coulda lost you that night if it wasn’t for that nigga T.J.” he kissed her on her stomach.

  “Yeah, I guess you right. I was kinda of scared for you. I thought I wasn’t gonna make it in time to bust blood melon, but luckily T.J. showed up.” she said, looking down at him, rubbing her stomach. “He came outta nowhere like The Angel of Death, flying from out of the shadows with two guns up,” she made her hands into the shape of guns and pretended to shoot them. “He really saved the day, ‘cause that coulda been both, well, all three of our asses.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m thinkin’ about bringin’ ‘em in on the next lick I get to pay ‘em back.”

  “Bae, for real?” she asked, stroking the side of his face.

  He nodded and said, “Yeah. Homie said his pockets hurtin’ and he needa get back on his feet, so I told ‘em I’d put ‘em down If I caught wind of somethin’. What chu think, momma?” he looked into her eyes as he continued to rub her stomach.

  “I think it’s a good idea. You need someone out there watching yo’ back. I know you not tryna have me out there witchu, so why not T.J.? He seems like he’s an okay dude.”

  “Yeah, you do gotta point.” Te’Qui kissed her lips and then her forehead. He then killed the lamp light and lay back in bed, shutting his eyelids. Kesha laid her head against his chest and her arm over his torso. She shut her eyelids and they both drifted off to sleep.

  The sounds of gunfire awoke Te’Qui from his sleep.He threw the covers from off him and tip tied to his bedroom door. Gently, he twisted the doorknob and pulled open the door. He stuck his eye in the opening he’d provided and watched as his father, Faison, was blown off his feet by a woman in disguise. Seeing his old man slumped and bleeding, brought tears to his eyes and his bottom limp quivered. He could feel his heart breaking into one million pieces. Te’Qui observed the woman that had chopped his old man down, check the pulse in his neck as he stared off at nothing with the dead face. Afterwards, she swung around and pointed her shotgun at him, finger settled on the trigger. Te’Qui was fully prepared for her to blow him away, but she suddenly lowered her shotgun and fled the hallway.

  Once she was gone, Te’Qui crept out of his bedroom into the hallway. He snuck over to his dead father, coming across the opened bathroom door. When he looked inside, he discovered his mother, Chevy, lying slumped dead inside of the tub with the shower water still pelting against her. Her eyes were wide and vacant, while her mouth hung open. There were two big ass holes in her body and they were pouring blood that mixed with the hot shower water, swirling down the drain.

  “Momma, oh momma,” Te’Qui cried out to his mother, tears streaming down his cheeks. He rushed inside of the bathroom and twisted the dials, shutting off the water. He then snatched a towel off the rack and draped it over her, kissing her on the forehead. Next, he stood upright and crossed himself in the sign of the Holy crucifix, running back out into the hallway. He didn’t waste any time grabbing the revolver from Faison’s chubby dead hand and checking its chamber. Seeing that he had enough bullets to avenge his parents, he shut the chamber and ran out of the hallway. He made his way inside of the kitchen and peered out through the window over the kitchen sink, seeing the woman that had popped his parents running along the side of the house. Quickly, he snatched his face from out of the window and ran out of the back door.

  He made his way on the side of the house just in time to see the woman crossing the front lawn. Right then, he ran as fast as he ever had after her. Once he’d gotten so close, he snuck toward her, holding his .357 Magnum revolver at his side with both hands. He watched her make her way across the street toward what he assumed was her vehicle. Te’Qui looked up and down the street for any oncoming cars, before hurrying across it himself, bare feet smacking down against the cold asphalt.

  Te’Qui saw the woman at the driver’s door of her car trying to open it. Seeing his chance to exact revenge, he snuck up behind her and pointed his gun at her back with both hands. His eyebrows arched and his nose scrunched up. He licked his lips and bit down on his bottom one. Then, he pulled the trigger of his weapon, chamber twisting as it unleashed fire.

  Blam!

  “Aahhhhh!” Te’Qui rose up in bed hollering aloud, eyes wide, mouth open, face and upper body covered in beads of sweat. He looked to Kesha and she was still asleep. He threw the sheets from off him and got out of bed, walking into the bathroom. He turned on the dials of the faucet and water poured out. He cupped his hands below the flowing liquid until his palms filled and splashed it upon his face, twice. Afterwards, he took a good look at himself in the medicine cabinet’s mirror. He then dabbed his face dry with a towel hanging on the rack. Just then, he heard his cellular vibrating on the dresser. When he glanced into his bedroom he could see its screen lighting up. His brows furrowed wondering who it could be hitting him up at that hour.

  Te’Qui flipped off the bathroom light as he crossed the threshold into his bedroom. He picked his cell phone up from the dresser and looked at the display. It read, Poochie. It answered it.

  “What’s brackin’?” Te’Qui asked.

  “You ready to eat, my nigga?” Poochie said.

  “Shiiiiid, I’m always ready to eat. What’s up with it?”

  “Quervo. I’m not finna say to much on this jack. We can link up somewhere and chop it up.”

  “Alright. Cool. Where at though?”

  “That Valero gas station on the corner of El Segundo and Crenshaw.”

  “What time?”

  “How does ten o’clock in the morning sound?”

  “I can fade that. I’ll holla at chu then.”

  “Fa sho’.”

  Te’Qui disconnected the call and sat his cellular back on the dresser. He then lay back in bed, put his arm around Kesha and kissed the back of her head before shutting his eyelids. He took a breath and before he knew it he had fallen back to sleep.

  10:00 A.M

  As soon as Te’Qui pulled into the AM/PM gas station, he noticed Poochie posted up. He was standing beside a purple ’95 Honda Civic smoking a withering Newport. The nigga looked fucked up. He had a big ass knot on his forehead, bluish black rings on his eyes, a swollen nose and busted lips. There was also a cast on his right arm. The nigga was dressed down too. He didn’t look nearly as fly as he did that night he ran into him at CVS. That day he was wearing a dingy black tanktop with the Toxic Crusader on it, light blue jeans with tears in their knees and some mothafucking sandals. It was from his appearance that Te’Qui knew that the nigga was broke than a mothafucka, because any time he had money, he made it his business to broadcast it through his jewelery, clothing and cars.

  Poochie’s habit had gotten the best of him. He’d lost all of his money and assets thanks to his addiction to coke. When he found himself struggling to support his habit, he started stealing product from Quervo’s spots. Once he was caught, Quervo and his goons’ pistol whipped him and stomped him out. The only reason why the niggaz didn’t kill him was because he begged and pleaded with Quervo to spare his life. Feeling sorry for his ass, Quervo granted him clemency, provided he left the city and never returned. Poochie agreed. He then packed his belongings into his car and drove away. As soon as he left the house, Poochie pulled out his cell phone and hit Te’Qui up with a plan to rob Quervo.

  This wasn’t the story he’d told Te’Qui though. Nah, he to
ld him that someone had lied and told Quervo that he was stealing and that’s why he’d gotten his ass beat. You see, he led the young gangsta to believe that his wrongfully getting punished was his reasoning behind wanting to set his ass up.

  Poochie dropped the Newport at his feet and mashed it out underneath his sandal. He then snatched open the back door and sat down, pulling the door shut behind him. His forehead creased when he noticed T.J. sitting in the front passenger seat. He didn’t have any idea that Te’Qui was bringing someone along with him. As far as he knew, it was only him and Te’Qui that were going to be in on the lick. Having someone else there in on the caper meant that his slice of the pie was going to get considerable smaller. He wasn’t tripping off of it though. The dough they were going to get for the hit would still be more than enough to keep him happy.

  “Who’s this?” Poochie inquired.

  “Oh, pardon my mannas. Poochie, this my man T.J. T.J. this my homeboy Poochie.”

  “’Sup witchu, Blood?” T.J. asked as he sucked on a cherry Tootsie Roll pop, looking over his shoulder at him and holding out his fist.

  Poochie touched fists with T.J. and said, “Ain’t shit, tryna see about securin’ this bag.”

  “I can feel that. I’m all about my money.”

  “Sho’ you right.” Poochie nodded.

  “Gimme the skinny on this fool Quervo. Where this nigga stash at?”

  “Well, my girl says he keeps his shit inside the wall in his crib. What wall? That I don’t fuckin’ know, but that’s where y’all come in. When y’all run up in his shit y’all gon’ have whip off in his ass to get ‘em to come off the location of where them bands at. Now, if you know Quervo like I know Quervo, he’s a stubborn, prideful bastard, so that’s gonna prove to be tough.”

  “Oh, he’ll talk, best believe that. I done went at some of the hardest mothafuckaz in these streets and they all buckled under my gun. Once I lay my G down on his ol’ wannabe gangsta-ass, he’ll tell me exactly where that paypa is.” Te’Qui assured him.

  “Now, when y’all go in there, he gon’ try to throw y’all off with that safe inside of his closet. It has money in it, but all that shit is fake. That’s a dummy grab. He got that shit there in case mothafuckaz are lookin’ to get at ‘em. That way they think they leavin’ with somethin’, but they really got some ol’ bullshit.”

  “I’ll give it to homeboy, he is a clever mothafucka,” T.J. said as he massaged his chin and surveyed his surroundings.

  “That he is.” Te’Qui nodded and continued to indulge in his Tootsie Roll sucker.

  “Here, limme give you this nigga info,” Poochie fished a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Te’Qui. He continued to talk to him as he looked over the piece of paper. “Homeboy’s birthday is tomorrow night. They goin’ out to celebrate. My lil’ white bitch said she gon’ make sure they’re home and in bed ‘round eleven o’clock. She gon’ leave the back door open for y’all niggaz to creep in. Now, I don’t give a fuck what y’all do to Quervo, fuck him! Just don’t kill my bitch. Rough her up if you have to, but don’t kill her ass. I love that bitch! I ain’t goin’ to be able to hack it out here if somethin’ happens to her.”

  “Alright. We ain’t gon’ splash her, but we gon’ have to rough her up to make it look good though. I’m sho’ you don’t want this nigga on yo’ ass if he gets the feelin’ she was in on the shit, right?”

  “Yeah. Like I said ‘if you gotta rough her up then handle yo’ business’. Just don’t kill her, that’s all I’m sayin’.”

  “Don’t worry about nothin’, bro, I got chu faded.” Te’Qui assured him.

  “Cool.” Poochie responded. “Yo’, Qui, you think you can bless me with a lil’ somethin’ ‘til we secure this bag, man?”

  Te’Qui was silent for a minute as he thought about what Poochie had just asked him. He knew that if he gave him some money that he was going to snort it right up his fucking nose. He didn’t like the idea of giving a nigga some money to support his habit, but then again, homie was a grown-ass man. If the nigga wanted to play with his nose then let him play with his nose.

  Tomorrow night

  A masked up Te’Qui and T.J. hopped out of their car and tossed their pickaxes over the fence. They then scaled over the fence and jumped down into the backyard of their intended victim. They looked around to make sure there weren’t any dogs around, although they’d been told that there wouldn’t be any hounds on the premises. Seeing that the coast was clear, they grabbed the tools they’d tossed over the fence and jogged across the lawn to the backdoor. Te’Qui was the first nigga at the back door; he placed his ear against it and listened closely. He didn’t hear anything so he opened the door and crept inside over the threshold. He didn’t have any trouble getting the door open because Poochie’s inside woman had left it unlocked for them.

  The only light on inside of the house was the one inside of the kitchen. No one was down stairs but Te’Qui and T.J. could hear R. Kelly’s Sex me playing upstairs loudly. They propped their pickaxes up against the refrigerator and exchanged glances. Te’Qui gave T.J. the signal to follow him up the staircase and he nodded his understanding. They snuck through the dark living room and crept up the steps as quietly as they could. Once they reached the landing, the music seemed even louder. With knowledge of which bedroom R. Kelly was crooning from, Te’Qui and T.J. made their way down the hallway, with their guns held up at their shoulders. Reaching the master bedroom, they took their places on either side of the door. Te’Qui gave T.J. another signal that let him know exactly what he had in mind. Again, he nodded his understanding.

  Te’Qui counted down to three inside of his head. He then swung out before the door and kicked that mothafucka wide open. He flipped the light switch on and he and T.J. rushed into the master bedroom. They found a nigga with what looked like an S-curl fucking the white bitch that was in on the lick, doggy style. Her name was Jane, and as soon as she saw them masked up niggaz, she started screaming hysterically.

  “Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahhhh!” Jane screamed over and over again as she cowered against the headboard, pulling the covers over her bosom.

  “Bitch, shut the fuck up ‘fore I shoot chu in yo’ trick ass mouth!” T.J. commanded as he and Te’Qui pointed their bangaz at Jane’s hollering ass.

  Seeing movement at the corner of his eye, Te’Qui’s head snapped in the direction of the dude with the curly hair. He clocked him reaching for the chrome .45 handgun with the pearl handle on the dresser. Swiftly, Te’Qui pointed his gun and shot the lamp which was beside the gun, shattering it into pieces. The shock of almost being shot caused homie with the curl to snatch his hand away from the dresser. He quickly threw his hands up in surrender and looked Te’Qui in his eyes, defiantly.

  “Fuck!” He cursed under his breath wishing he’d gotten to his gun before the masked up nigga had noticed him. He knew that if he was lucky he’d walk away from the home invasion alive, but if he wasn’t, his black ass would be getting fit for a suit and casket by next week.

  “You must be Quervo,” Te’Qui walked in his direction with his gun pointed at him. “The half black, half Puerto Rican bitch we gon’ squeeze for everything he’s got. Where the money at, nigga?”

  “I ain’t giving you shit, puto! As a matter of fact, nigga, suck my dick!” Quervo snarled and spat at his feet. The nasty yellowish glob that flew from his mouth splattered against Te’Qui’s sneaker. Angry, Te’Qui exchanged glances with T.J.; neither of them could believe the size of Quervo’s balls.

  Te’Qui flipped his gun over in his hand and whacked Quervo upside the head with it. The vicious blow knocked Quervo off the bed and he landed on his side hard as shit. Lying on his side, he winced and held the side of his bleeding head. Te’Qui straddled him and continued to pistol whip him until he gave up the whereabouts of the money he had stashed. Right after, Te’Qui grabbed Quervo by his ankle and dragged him towards the bedroom door.

  “Grab that bitch and bring her ass down stairs, too!
” Te’Qui ordered T.J. He then glanced over his shoulder to make sure he wouldn’t bump into the wall as he dragged Quervo down the hallway, kicking and screaming. T.J. was right behind them, pulling Jane along by her long stringy hair. Her face was red and she was holding on to his wrist. His grip was so tight that it felt like he was going to rip her hair from out of her scalp. She winced and whimpered, but she never complained about what was happening to her for fear she’d get her face blown off.

  Bunk! Bunk! Bunk! Bunk!

  Quervo’s head banged off each step as Te’Qui drug him down the staircase by his ankle, not giving a mad ass fuck about the injuries he’d sustain. Once they reached the landing, he continued dragging his ass inside of the living room, where he eventually released him at the center of the floor. Afterwards, he tucked his gun on his waistline and went inside of the kitchen to get the pickaxes. T.J. entered the living room behind him, throwing Jane to the floor, roughly. He then walked over to the light switch and flipped it on, restoring light to the living room.

  While this was going on, Jane was looking around the living room, terrified. Teardrops fell from her eyes and her bottom lip quivered. As she begged and pleaded for her and her man’s lives, Te’Qui returned to the living room with two pickaxes whistling Dixie. He sat the pickaxes on the couch. Next, he pushed the couch and the love seat out of the way, leaving a clear path to the portrait of Malcolm X hanging on the wall.

  Once he was finish doing this, he picked up one of the pickaxes and spared a glance over his shoulder. He found T.J. holding Jane and Quervo at gunpoint. Turning back around, Te’Qui knocked the Malcolm X portrait off the wall with the pickaxe. He gripped the pickaxe with both hands and slammed it into the wall, yanking out plaster and shit. Chunks of the wall and residue spilled down onto the floor at his sneakers. But he didn’t waste any time as he continued to attack the wall, pulling out chunks of it along with plaster. As he continued to hack away at the wall, bricks of money wrapped in plastic began to appear. Having grown exhausted, he turned around to T.J. breathing heavily, chest expanding and then compressing.